Forgiving Is The Easy Part
by JodithGrace
Summary: Immediate follow up to intervention B/S


"Spike Lips

These characters belong to Joss Whedon, and for the moment, the WB. I only toy with them for my own amusement.

Forgiving Is The Easy Part

By JodithGrace

"Spike Lips! Lips of Spike," Buffy thought to herself as she walked away from the crypt. How long had it been since she had thought _those _words? She could still taste his blood. His face had been so mutilated...up close it was like looking at raw meat. Buffy shuddered. She had seen death, and she had seen the results of torture, but she had never seen anything like Spike's face. Probably because a human in Spike's condition would be dead, or hospitalized, wrapped in bandages, connected to an IV. Hadn't he said something about broken bones? She thought of Spike lying there on his slab of marble. Did he even have access to blood? Could he walk? Vampires heal fast, Buffy told herself as she walked toward the Magic Box. Xander and Giles had said that Spike wasn't even coherent when they had dumped him in his crypt, but he had sat up and spoken to her only an hour later. And he had known she wasn't the robot the moment she had kissed him. 

The robot! Buffy had needed to undress the thing to borrow its clothes. She had banned everyone from the training room, and had burned with shock and humiliation when she saw how anatomically correct the damn thing was! She had hastily dressed it in her own clothing, and draped it over the training horse. And stalked out to confront the perverted monster who had created that obscenity in her image. 

But the Spike in the crypt wasn't a perverted monster. Oh, he _looked_ monstrous, all right, with his battered face. Did vampires scar? Oh...of course they do. Spike had that scar on his eyebrow, courtesy of the Chinese Slayer. But that had been a slayer wound, by a sword that had been, perhaps, enchanted or blessed in some way. But surely Spike would be a mess of scars from all the battles he had fought in over a century, if scarring were a natural thing for him. Anyway… why did she care if Spike was scarred by Glory? What did it matter if his face was changed, or if those blue eyes were damaged...remember the Chinese slayer, she admonished herself. Remember all the other people he's killed. Buffy shook her head. How could she reconcile that cold-blooded killer with the pathetic creature on the slab? The Spike who had risked his life for her and Dawn? How was this possible? It was part of the Slayer's code to put her life on the line for others…she would die to protect Dawn...it was who and what she was. But Spike...was it part of his code? Could a vampire even have a code?

Could the same misguided obsession that drove Spike to commission a robot of her, have caused him to endure such pain for her? Pain. What was it the spirit guide had said about pain? "Love is pain," she had said, and "risk the pain," in order to love.

Buffy had reached the Magic Box. As she walked in, the gang looked at her anxiously, searching her troubled face for clues. "It's okay..." she said listlessly, "He didn't talk. Dawn is safe. For the moment, anyway."

"He didn't talk. Extraordinary." Giles face lit up. "Good for him!"

"Are you sure?" Demanded Xander.

"He would have no reason to lie to his robot." Buffy explained. She felt no need to mention the kiss or the fact that Spike recognized her.

"Well, that explains the Rocky face, then," Said Xander. "Though I really didn't think he had it in him."

"Is he okay?" Asked Willow.

"Well, he's lying on a cold slab of marble, with no access to blood or to First Aid. I don't suppose it would have occurred to either of you to have given him a Band-Aid."

"Look, for all we knew, he sold you out. He was lucky we didn't stake him there and then. I seem to recall that you weren't too upset about that prospect an hour ago." Xander said defensively.

"I-I suspected that he hadn't told, "confessed Giles, "from the extent of his injuries…W-We should have helped him a bit more. As it was, it was quite difficult getting him to his crypt in broad daylight...we had to wrap him in blankets. Fortunately the doorman was quite helpful."

Buffy grabbed her purse and looked under the counter for the First Aid kit. "Well, I'm going to get him some blood and clean him up a bit. His vampire-ness should take care of the rest."

"Wait!" It was Dawn. "Can I come too? Please. I want to help."

Buffy knew it still wasn't safe for Dawn to be out and about, but… "Okay. Come on."

Dawn hurried to catch up with Buffy as they left the butcher shop. "Will drinking blood help him heal faster?"

"I think so. Plus he may just be hungry, and not be able to get out. You haven't seen him…he is a total mess. Are you sure you want to come?"

"Yes. I didn't think he would tell Glory about me. He's pretty brave."

"Spike? What would make you say that, Dawn?"

"I-I don't know. Uh...didn't he fight Glory that time in the hospital?"

"I seem to remember him being unconscious on the floor...if you call that fighting."

"Well, he _tried _to fight Glory...she was stronger than he is. I would think that would count for _something."_

Buffy sighed. "Yes, it does, Dawn. You're right. I don't know why I have such trouble giving Spike credit for anything. It just goes against everything I know about vampires."

They approached Spike's crypt. Buffy peered inside, cautiously. Spike was as she had found him earlier, lying on his sarcophagus. An actual bed, that Buffy hadn't noticed before, was in the corner, but Spike had made no effort to move himself to it...perhaps he didn't want to mess it up since it had a fancy pink quilted bedspread. Not quite Spike's style. He must have brought it in especially for the robot. Buffy shuddered. She noticed that Dawn was also staring at the bed, and she nudged her and turned their attention to Spike. If anything, he looked worse than he had on her previous visit. He was also sound asleep or unconscious. "Spike!" Buffy whispered loudly, not wanting to startle him.

Spike opened his swollen eyes enough to see who his visitors were, and shut them again. It hurt less with his eyes closed. "Is it live or is it Memorex?" he asked, referring to the fact that Buffy was still dressed in the robot's pink top and pleated skirt.

"Very funny, Spike. I'm glad you can make jokes in your condition." Buffy took antibacterial wipes out of the First Aide kit. She didn't imagine that Spike had running water. "We're here to patch you up a bit. This may sting a little."

She began to swab Spike's cuts with the cloths. The alcohol in the wipes did sting, she could tell, but Spike didn't say a word. "What is this, glass?" Buffy said, as she removed some small shards from his cheeks. 

"Yeah...well, Glory is very inventive."

The cuts were already beginning to hold together...he wouldn't need stitches. Dawn watched, fascinated, as Buffy expertly dabbed Neosporin on the cuts and applied butterfly Band-Aids to the slash under his bottom lip, which was particularly ugly. 

"Can you sit up?" She asked Spike gently. " I want to look at your chest."

Spike smiled, despite his pain, "Been waitin' a long time to hear you say that, Slayer." He raised himself slowly to a sitting position.

"Shut up Spike," Buffy said mildly, "I think you have some broken ribs, so I'll rip the rest of this shirt off, so you won't have to raise your arms. Don't say a word, Spike. Dawn, help me."

Together they got Spike's shirt off, and surveyed the damage to his chest. A large hole right under his heart was healing fast, and needed no attention. "Did she stake you, Spike?" Buffy asked...that hole was a bit too close for comfort.

"Nah...believe it or not...that was her finger."

"Her finger!" 

"Yeah...lucky for me vampires aren't any good for brain sucking, or she would have stuck em in my skull."

Dawn had turned pale at Spike's description and went to sit down in the ratty armchair. Buffy shook her head as she bandaged the slashes across Spike's chest. "Is that it?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's it, and thank you Florence Nightingale. I feel a little better."

Dawn got up. "We brought you some blood too." She brought over the container and handed it to Spike.

"Thanks, Niblett." Spike drank from the container. 

Buffy noticed that Spike's eyes were still badly swollen, and that he could barely open them. He could really use a hot compress...though that would be a bit hard to come by. "Tell me Spike, where did Glory find you?" 

"Right here. Her scabby hobbits came here whilst I was talking to Xander." 

Buffy reacted, "They came _here_? Then Glory knows where you live. What's to stop her from picking you up again? And what do you mean you were talking to Xander?"

"Xander stopped by to, uh, shoot the breeze, and uh, threaten me with death...you know about the whole robot thing...only he didn't know it was a robot. "Spike hesitated, "I-I'm sorry Buffy...about the whole thing."

"Look Spike…We really don't have time to rehash this whole 'robot thing.' We have to get you out of here. Can you walk, do you think?" She and Dawn helped Spike to a standing position. 

"Sure, just have to get my sea legs." Spike looked as though he were going to fall down. They leaned him against the tomb. 

"Spike, do you have any shirts with buttons...not over the head type?"

"Yeah...in that chest over there." Dawn went over and rummaged through several black tee shirts, and jeans to find a blue button down shirt, which she brought to Buffy. Together they helped Spike put it on, and button it. Buffy then grabbed Spike's duster and they put that on him too. Buffy opened the door to Spike's crypt only to be met with afternoon sunlight. "Damn."  


"We'll have to go through the tunnel, "Spike suggested. Dawn went over to the trap door and pulled it open. Buffy looked at her. 

"I saw Spike come out of here once." She explained.

Buffy, Spike and Dawn slowly made their way down the ladder to Spike's underground lair. Buffy closed the trapdoor above them to, hopefully, slow detection. Once underground, Buffy looked around and saw with relief that all evidence of the Buffy shrine was gone. She really hadn't wanted Dawn to see that. Spike sat down to rest on a large hunk of marble...a broken statue of some kind. But he soon stood up again and putting an arm around Buffy on one side and Dawn on the other, they made their slow laborious way through the labyrinth of tunnels that ran underneath Sunnydale. They were slow because Spike couldn't move quickly, not because he didn't know the way...the path from his crypt to the Summer's residence was second nature to him. Buffy climbed up through the manhole and saw that they were only one block from her house. But could Spike run a whole block in the sunshine? Probably not. But they were out of the way of Glory now, and she could run home for supplies...like a hot compress. Leaving Dawn and Spike sitting at a turn of the tunnel, Buffy ran home and heated up some wet towels in the microwave, and brought them back down into the sewer. There she put them on Spike's eyes, and had him lie down. She and Dawn sat with him and waited for the sunset.

"Look, Spike, there's an old sofa down the basement...you can stay there. " She didn't want him on the living room sofa...could hardly bear to go near it herself, and the only other bedroom had been their mother's and Buffy couldn't deal with that either.

They walked downstairs. "S'okay, Buffy. I really appreciate this." His eyes were already much better, and he was walking on his own. "Uh…Buffy?"

"What, Spike?"

"Uh...why are you doing this?" He sat down on the sofa.

"Well, I figure we have to get you back in shape if you're going to help us fight Glory."

"Fight Glory, eh? Well, if you look at me you'll see how good I am at that."

"Hey...you're not dust, you got away from her, and you didn't tell her what she wanted to know. In my book that makes you 3 and 0 against her," Buffy sat down beside him on the sofa, "You know, she's kicked my butt around the block a few times also. The thing is...none of us are strong enough to fight her by ourselves. But if we all work together we might have a shot." She stopped and looked at Spike, "But I guess I don't need to tell you that, do I Spike? It seems to me that not too long ago you tried to use that fact against us in the fight with Adam."

Spike looked down. "Seems like a long time ago, Slayer. Thought Adam could solve all my problems. But I came around to your side in the end, didn't I?"

"More or less," Buffy agreed. "But I still don't know why I didn't stake you a long time ago."

"Cause I'm so bloody cute?" Spike suggested.

Buffy snorted with laughter, surprising herself. "Yeah, cute! I wish you could see yourself in a mirror. I'd show you cute."

She shook her head. "Listen to me, Spike," Buffy said seriously. "Forgiving is one thing. Forgetting is something else all together. I can't forget who and what you are. We have issues, you and I. But if you want to help us fight against Glory and protect Dawn; well then we will be glad to have you. If you don't want to, just say the word, and you can leave here, and go somewhere safe. You've earned a free pass out of town. "

"What about the others? They aren't too fond of me these days."

"They will follow my lead. Anyway, I think you impressed Giles and Xander. They did give you the benefit of the doubt, you know. "

"I know. I heard 'em talking bout whether or not to stake me. Couldn't give 'em a reason why _not_ at that point. Funny how things change." Spike stood up, "Well, Buffy, if you'll have me I'd like to enlist. Like to get a little of my own back against that bitch. And I am always at your service. And Dawn's." He would have bowed, but the pain in his ribs prevented it.

Buffy looked at him puzzled. What an odd thing to say. Almost like a knight in a story. He certainly was tough to figure out. She stood up and offered him her hand. "So we have a deal?"

Spike shook her hand. "Deal." He sat back down on the sofa...feeling suddenly weak again.

"You'd better get some rest. Dawn and I are going over to the Magic Box for a while. We'll be back later." 

"Buffy…one more thing before you go. Uh…thanks for the invite. I won't abuse it."

"Better not." She shook her head, "One of these days, Spike, we are going to have to have a _long _talk." With that she disappeared up the stairs.

"Lookin' forward to it, pet." Spike said softly to himself, "Lookin' forward to it."

The end


End file.
